Hot Toddy
by etraytin
Summary: A cold bug hits the staff on the second campaign trail. Abbey Bartlet steps in for some doctoring and bossing people into doing what's good for them.


Author's Note: Another short fic in response to a Tumblr prompt, barely edited and fresh from my keyboard. This one was from actuallylorelaigilmore, who requested "CJ and Donna hang out with the First Lady in Abbey-mode."

(And yes, to anyone who is concerned, I'm still actively working on Such A Winter's Day. Just giving everyone, including myself, a little time to process Part One!)

…...

"Ma'am, we really don't have time for this."

"Hush, CJ, and you're supposed to be calling me Abbey, remember? We're not in the White House at the moment. Now open up." The First Lady prodded imperiously at the Press Secretary's mouth with a tongue depressor.

CJ rolled her eyes, but opened her mouth to have her tongue depressed. "Iath eusk a hooa hwoah," she tried to protest.

"It's just a sore throat," Donna translated helpfully from the sofa on the other side of the hotel room. She blew her nose. "I think it's something that's going around. Everyone gets sick eventually on the campaign trail."

"They get sick a lot faster if they go swimming in hotel pools at night when it's sixty degrees out," Abbey pointed out, shining a penlight down CJ's throat. "Mmm, yep. Lot of drainage back there, and pretty red, but no signs of strep so far. You've got a nasty cold."

"I oooua ool oo aah," CJ groused, making a face as the tongue depressor was removed. "Ugh, tastes like the world's most disappointing popsicle." She reached out one long arm to snag the box of tissues from Donna and blew her own nose. "Anyway, the water was nice and warm, and we certainly don't have time to swim during the day."

"It was nice," Donna agreed, a little dreamily. She'd had some cold medicine already and was cuddling under a spare blanket. "You don't think we have Legionnaire's Disease, do you?" she asked Abbey. "I read that you can contract that from swimming pools, and it can be fatal to certain people. It's a good thing we don't smoke." CJ looked vaguely discomfited.

"Hotel pools are cesspits," Abbey confirmed, "but I think you'll both pull through. If this doesn't clear up within a few days, you might need an antibiotic." A knock on the door caught her attention. "For now, though, I think an old family remedy is in order."

She went to the door and answered it, to find a even more rumpled than usual Josh, bearing a drink holder with three styrofoam cups. "Charlie asked me to bring these up," he reported. "He said he was too tired after walking through half the bars in town. Can I have Donna back, please?" he asked, shooting a glance towards his drowsy, congested assistant. "I need her for the tax incentives thing."

"You'll have her back tomorrow," Abbey promised, plucking the tray from his hands. "She needs the night to rest. A little sleep wouldn't kill you either, Joshua."

Josh took a hasty step back. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he promised quickly. "Tomorrow, then. Just don't let her sleep on that couch, it'll hurt her back."

"Shoo," Abby told him fondly, then closed the door in his face. "These," she explained to the women, turning to set the tray down, "are hot toddies. They are wonderful for any kind of cold or congestion, and really just wonderful in general. Donna, you only get to drink half of yours because I don't want you to pass out before you get to bed." She passed out the drinks and took a sip of her own. "Mmm, just right."

CJ gave her cup a suspicious sniff, then took a sip. "So this is... hot cough syrup?" she asked, shuddering a little at the taste and texture.

"It's whiskey, honey and lemon, nice and warm, like a hot whiskey sour," Donna explained, sipping hers with evident enjoyment. Of course, Donna drank her whiskey neat when she was in the mood, so that wasn't saying much. "My grandma used to make them for me when I was little if I had a cold."

"Your grandma was giving you hot whiskey when you were a kid?" CJ asked in disbelief. "Talk about the wilds of Wisconsin."

"Hush, don't listen to her, Donna," Abbey encouraged. "Just a little never hurt anyone. I used to rub whiskey on Liz's gums when she was teething, just like my mother did for me."

CJ rubbed her forehead. "Please never say that when a camera is on," she begged, her voice even hoarser than before.

"You should lighten up, CJ," Donna advised from the sofa. She was now sitting crosslegged with the blanket around her shoulders, the static electricity of which had her hair frizzing around her head in a gold halo. With her cup held carefully in both hands, she looked more like a tired six-year-old than a senior assistant at the White House. "Stress weakens your immune system. Right, Abbey?"

"Right, Donna," Abbey agreed, looking pleased to have found a confederate. "But citrus is good for you, so drink up." CJ took another reluctant sip, while Donna appeared to have forgotten that she was only allowed half of hers. "Now we're going to be in Dayton the day after tomorrow," Abbey observed. "Are we going to see the Cregg family there?"

"My brother TJ will be there, and my niece Hogan. They're going to come to the thing at the civic center."

"Your brother's name is TJ?" Abbey asked, amused.

"Talmidge Junior. You'd take a nickname too," CJ replied. "His divorce was just finalized last year, so they moved back to Dayton a few months ago."

"So he's eligible," Abby pointed out, amused. "What does he look like?"

"Pretty much like me, as a guy," CJ replied, frowning into her terrible drink.

Donna cocked her head, obviously trying to picture that. "Huh. That could work," she decided. "You're a very handsome woman."

CJ sputtered a bit, and Abbey laughed. "Not for you, Donna. I'd rather not see Josh out hunting for a stepstool just so he can punch a man."

"What?" Donna asked blearily.

"Nothing," Abbey assured her. "I think you've probably had enough medicine for tonight." CJ, agreeing, plucked the cup from Donna's hands before it could tip over.

"I do feel a lot better," Donna decided. "Can I just sleep in here?"

"I wouldn't mind, but that couch is pretty hard," Abbey told her. "And at some point I'm probably going to have to let my husband come back in."

"I'm feeling better too, and I need to check the wires before bed," CJ claimed, hastily setting aside Donna's empty cup and her own nearly-full one. "I'll walk her back down to her room." She pulled Donna to her feet, where she swayed but stood.

"Thanks for taking care of us, Abbey," Donna said with a sweet smile. She still had ahold of the blanket, and didn't look to be giving it up anytime soon. "You remind me of my mom."

"That's fine, Donna, you're young enough that I can take that as a compliment," Abbey told her. "Now go get some sleep and don't let anybody wake you up before six, either of you."

"Yes ma'am," CJ acknowledged with a quick grin. "We'll see you tomorrow." She pulled Donna out of the suite and escorted her to the room she was sharing with Margaret, all but pouring her into the bed. Donna murmured something indistinct but thankful, pulled the blanket over her head, and went to sleep. Shaking her own head a little, CJ headed for her room, wondering if it might be possible to learn sign language before the four press gaggles she'd be doing the next day.

Upon reaching her own room, she was only barely surprised to find it already occupied. Toby was slouched in her armchair, reading a tattered paperback novel, two cups of brandy on the table next to him. He spared her a glance. "Take it, it's good for what ails you," he told her, gesturing to one of the glasses. His voice was slightly hoarse. "Something's going around."

CJ smiled and took the glass, tapping it lightly against his. "I think we'll beat it."


End file.
